


Sina Save the Queen

by Feneris



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Community: snkkink, F/F, Gen, Intrigue, Kings and Queens, Nobility, Spies, Trust
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-18
Updated: 2014-08-18
Packaged: 2018-02-13 17:39:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2159328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Feneris/pseuds/Feneris
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There were few people Queen Historia could trust.</p><p>Not Reiner, not after what he had done.</p><p>Not Jean, who only had no reason to turn against her.</p><p>Not Armin, Eren, or Mikasa who had long ago slipper from her control. </p><p>But there was one person whom she still could...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sina Save the Queen

**Author's Note:**

> Yup, I've been falling behind in de-anoning here. But here's another piece of work I have a soft spot for. I like writing AU's like this almost as much as I enjoy reading them. I only hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it.

A crowd had gathered.

Royal appearances were rare enough, and for the Queen to show her face in an outer district like Shiganshina was all but unheard of. Already citizens of the district were lining the route, members of the Military Police keeping them from blocking the road. Then someone spotted the royal carriage, and a cheer started.

If there was one thing Queen Historia understood, it was that she wasn't the focus of attention. Sure, a spectacle like this was bound to draw a crowd, and most of the folks there were genuinely excited to see her. But she wasn't going to delude herself. She knew damn well that most people were far more interested in the bread being distributed by her soldiers than they would ever be interested in her.

But, appearances had to be kept up. So she kept smiling sweetly and waving as her carriage passed the cheering crowds. Beside her, Prince Consort Reiner grinned broadly and waved broadly to the cheering masses.

Reiner made a good prince. He fit the image of what everyone thought a prince should look like. His broad profile and imposing size made the perfect counterpart to her small and delicate frame.

She didn't trust Reiner. She couldn't. Not after everything that happened, not after everything that he had done. But they had an understanding. Reiner had spent five years pretending to be a solider, he could spend more years than that pretending to be a prince.

He played the part well enough, and neither of them minded a bit that they spent their nights in different bedrooms. It wasn't the perfect situation, but Historia knew damn well that it was far better than Reiner deserved after everything he did, and she knew Reiner knew it as well.

There were few left alive to whom the name Reiner Braun meant anything, but there were still those that would be very interested to learn he was still alive.

She didn't trust Reiner, but she trusted his sense of self-interest. He had too much invested in her continued good graces to turn on her.

\---

When the royal party had finally made it back to the Inner city, there had been a feast. But before that there was a dance. Queen Historia had made a show of dancing with Prince Consort Reiner, and had done a reel with Adviser Jean before claiming fatigue and sitting out.

All things considered, Jean was a good adviser. She didn't trust him, but then again, she didn't trust any of her advisers. But, he still retained his usual blunt manners and his habit of speaking exactly what he was thinking.

Since Historia usually spent her days hearing nothing but flattery and flowery double talk, Jean's usually aggravating manners were a refreshing change. Besides that, Jean was tired. He had possessed no appetite for intrigue and back-dealing before everything, and everything that had happened since had robbed him of any desire to involve himself in shadowy dealings and secret conspiracies. He had a nice house in the Inner City, a cushy job, and an polished salary. If he wasn't happy, he was at least content, and Historia was confident he was too tired of backstabbing and intrigue to risk it all turning against her.

She may not of trusted Jean, but she could at least rely on him not to lie to her.

It was at that moment there was a loud shriek. Historia turned her head just in time to see one of the servant girls slap Connie Springer right across the face, hard enough to leave a bright red hand-print, and storm away flustered. Obviously Connie had tired to grope her.

As if on cue, Sasha suddenly stormed out of the crowd and slapped Connie across the face so hard it made his head snap back, leaving another bright red hand-print on his other check. She then turned around and made to storm back into the crowd, only to have Connie reach over and slap her ass. Sasha spun around and delivered a lighting fast kick to Connie's groin. Connie staggered a few steps, before collapsing to the ground in pain, accidentally upending an open bottle of wine on his head.

Snickers and laughter filled the hall as the various guest took it upon themselves to laugh at Connie's foolishness. Historia smiled. Sasha and Connie had been practicing that routine for weeks now. Doubtless the obscenely oversized cod-piece that Connie had worn that night had absorbed most of the blow, and Connie would soon pick himself up and sneak off with Sasha to plan their next bit of foolishness.

Officially, Connie and Sasha's job was to provide "merriment and diversion," for the royal family. Historia knew damn well they were happy just being able to crash royal parties and gorge themselves on fancy food. They didn't care that they were basically gloried jesters. (and overpaid ones at that.) In fact they considered "the royal mandate to goof off," as they called it, to be one of the main perks of the job. They were happy where they were. They didn't want any high and powerful position loaded with stress and responsibility.

She had nothing to fear from Connie and Sasha. Historia knew that well. The two of them would never aspire to overthrow her. Not for power or wealth they didn't want. But did she trust them?

The question made her pause.

No, she decided. She couldn't trust them. Not that they were the type to deceive or manipulate, but if they were put on the spot, could she trust them to take her side?

She didn't know the answer to that.

\---

It was during the feast that she noticed something. Something that made her heart freeze.

"Where's Eren, Armin, and Mikasa?" She hissed to Jean.

"They couldn't make it," Jean replied quickly. "Eren's out in Japnur breaking up a slaving ring. Mikasa went with him to help him out. As for Armin," Jean gave a helpless shrug. "Sent a letter saying he couldn't make it because he was "somewhere" doing "something.""

Historia groaned and pinched the bridge of her nose. As her Spymaster, Armin's cryptic explanation of his whereabouts went hand-in-hand with his duties. He could be in the outer districts hunting down the last of her father's old cronies. He could be in the towns of Wall Rose, rooting out the latest conspiracy to take root among the merchant syndicates. Or he could simply be in the Dove's Nest Inn in the Inner City, having a romantic liaison with Annie Leonheart, and simply didn't feel like telling anyone where he was.

 _"Maybe he's plotting,"_ a voice in her head whispered. _"Maybe he's got everything together and is simply waiting for the right moment to overthrow you. Him, Eren and Mikasa."_

The Queen ruthlessly squashed that voice. She may not have been able to trust Armin, but he was still loyal to her. He had no reason not to be!

\---

When her reign had first began. Historia had her work cut out for her. There were many who disliked the sudden change in monarch. Most of them old power holders, fat-cat cronies of her father, and officials who had prospered under his policies. She had needed someone to do the dirty work. Someone who was on her side and had nothing to gain by turning against her.

Eren, Armin, and Mikasa had fit the bill perfectly.

There was no better Spymaster than Armin. The power-brokers of the Walls called him "The Spider." The image fit him well. He was the blonde spider at the center of the massive web on intrigue that enveloped the Walls. He had his fingers on all the various lines, and was in tune with every jerk and vibration made by every thread. It was him who ultimately made the decision as to which thread to tug, which thread to spin anew, which thread to support, and which thread to snip away entirely.

Eren she had appointed as her new "Grand Auditor," his job, in short, was to hunt down every last corrupt official he could find. He was to break up the criminal cartels and organized crime rings. All those that had managed to slip through the cracks during her father's reign needed to be dealt with. Historia didn't care how, so long as it was done.

Eren had taken to his new duties with a fervor and zeal that shocked even Armin. Within a month after Eren's first initial, and brutal, crackdown, corruption in the royal bureaucracy had practically halved, as formally corrupt officials began hastily cleaning up their acts, so as not to be the next necks on the chopping block when Eren came knocking. With the bureaucrats scared out of their wits of him, Eren had then turned on the organized crime gangs. It was said in the under-city, that Eren had killed more people than the last plague epidemic, and that you could tell when he made a bust by the plumes of smoke from funeral pyres.

As for Mikasa. Historia had found that if she needed anyone out of the way quickly and quietly, Mikasa was perfect for the job. It didn't even matter who the target was. Historia needed but give the word, and Mikasa would take care of it.

But in order to do their jobs effectively, the three of them required a great degree of independence. At first that hadn't been a problem. Then the Sheifler Incident had happened.

The noble house of Sheifler had been one of the noble houses that had prospered under the old regime. The plan, near as anyone had been able to tell, was to show Historia what they thought of her new reforms, by assassinating her new Grand Auditor.

The only reason that Armin had not known of the plan beforehand, was because the whole thing was so hastily slapped together that his spies literally hadn't had time to warn him. As a result the assassination had been sloppy, over dramatic, and in Queen Historia's opinion, entirely too public. (Her entire court had not needed to see her Grand Auditor drown an assassin to death in a tureen of hot soup.)

The trio's response had been swifter and a great deal more total than anyone, even Historia, had anticipated.

Before the Queen was even aware of what had happened, Armin, Eren and Mikasa set out to utterly annihilate the house of Sheifler and anyone who had been involved in the assassination attempt. Within a week the entire noble house was utterly wiped out. It's members were either murdered in their sleep, suffered sudden and fatal accidents, of were dragged into mysterious black carriages and never seen again. Before Historia could even say a word, the entire noble house had been wiped from the face of the Walls.

Armin had presented her a report later, claiming that fast action had needed to be taken in light of such a brazen display of treachery. But the message had been clear, the three of them hadn't needed her authority to wipe out the house of Sheifler. They hadn't even bothered to ask, they had just done it. And there wasn't a lot she could do about it. Not without severely weakening her still shaky position as Queen.

Historia didn't trust Armin. She couldn't. Only Eren and Mikasa trusted Armin and they were the only ones who could. When it came down to it, the three of them were ultimately loyal to each other. They cared little for royal approval or authority, as the Sheifler Incident had demonstrated. They may not have had political aspirations, but they had aspirations, and that could be just as deadly.

But, Historia may not have trusted them, but she could at least trust their sense of self-interest. For all their alarming independence, not even Armin had any reason to overthrow her. They had far more to loose from her overthrowing than they would ever hope to gain. Even the sum total of all her crimes as Queen would not be enough to register her as a mark on Eren's shit list, when compared to all the evils he was currently hunting.

Aside from the real possibility of the three of them suddenly packing their bags and making for the world beyond the Walls, Historia had nothing to fear from them.

She just had to keep reminding herself of that.

\---

 _"Maybe Jean's in cahoots with them,"_ the paranoid voice in Historia's head whispered as she made her way to her bedchamber. _"Just because he's never lied to you before doesn't mean he isn't now. He could know exactly where Armin is, and he's waiting for Mikasa to knock you off so that he can bump himself up to Prime Minister. Maybe their going to try and reform the Scouting Legion. They might not be all dead you know. If anyone could survive beyond Wall Maria, it would be them. Maybe Levi's still alive, or even Erwin, and they've made contact with them. Then they're going to overthrow you like they did your father."_

Again, Historia ruthlessly squashed those voices. Her position was secure, she just had to keep reminding herself of that. If she started executing her officials on mere paranoid suspicions she would destroy herself better than any of her imagined enemies could. All she needed was an heir and her grip on the throne would be complete. Trying for an heir wasn't going to be pleasant for her or Reiner, but it was something that had to be done. Bertholdt would understand in Reiner's case. If only she had a brilliant nephew or niece she could start grooming instead. But no, her only nephew was an idiot, and he had been killed trying to use 3DMG without training.

She pushed open the door to her bedchambers, idly noting Reiner's discarded coat on the bed. So he was already with Bertholdt eh? With great relief she stripped off her elaborate royal gown, and began pulling the pins out of her hair. Royal jewels were carefully removed and placed in the jewelry box, and several quick rinses from the gold basin was enough to was the makeup from her face. With all her vestiges as queen stripped away, Historia slipped on a silk nightgown and made her way to the next room.

Ymir was already lying in bed, her uniform as captain of the Queen's Personal Bodyguard was tossed haphazardly over a chair in the corner.

"How was your day off?" Historia asked, slipping into be beside Ymir.

"Good..." Ymir answered, drawing out the answer teasingly.

"And what did you do?" Historia prodded.

"Things..." Ymir drawled out, smirking slightly.

Normally such an deliberately evasive answer would have set off alarms in Historia's head, and set off the paranoid voice in her mind. But this was Ymir talking.

"Ymir... Stop teasing me," Historia retorted. "You know I don't like it."

"Well..." Ymir's grin was on full force. "You know your birthday is coming up and... well wouldn't want to spoil the surprise now would we?"

"YMIR!"

Ymir was different.

Historia could trust Ymir.

She was the only one she could.


End file.
